Of Woods, Ron Kelly and Rickie
This is really stupid. So, naturally, I’m going to do it. Writing any kind of commentary piece on Tigers Woods these days is mostly hearsay, totally unreliable, guesswork and boringly redundant.
But hey, none of this has ever stopped me from making a fool of myself.
After my most recent piece regarding Tiger, I was chided by a reader as being a hater. Me? Really? The only person I hate is the last one to birdie the 18th hole and win a press from me.
OK, so I hate sandbaggers, people who take five hours to play a round of golf and guys who can’t keep all four wheels of a cart on an eight-foot-wide cart path.
But I really don’t hate Tiger Woods. Heck, for the past decade, I’ve been telling everyone who would listen that Tiger was the best golfer who ever lived. I was one of those guys who didn’t really mind if they showed every shot Tiger hit in a golf tournament, even when he wasn’t winning. With Tiger, you just never knew when a miracle was going to happen. You just knew that sooner or later one would.
Now it’s Tiger needing a miracle. OK, so it’s a small miracle. But still. The Chosen One is paying the supreme price for his much-publicized infidelity. His golf game is suffering. His sponsors are snubbing him. Multi-million-dollar golf complexes that he was designing are going under every day. He’d better keep his Nikes on, because the slope is very slippery.
No, I don’t hate Tiger Woods. In fact, I’m pulling for him to not only recover his health, but to also regain his golf swing. Right now it’s debatable which is hurting him worse, his neck or his portfolio.
What I really want to see is Tiger back playing the golf he’s capable of, resuming his chase of Jack Nicklaus in the majors. I want to see Tiger and Phil Mickelson battling it out down the stretch on Sundays.
Yeah, I’ve heard all the jokes about Tiger’s problems off the course. And I’ve laughed at too many of them. But if he can put the sordid mess behind him and get on with his life, I’m all for him.
Anyone who works in this business is going to make errors from time to time, and I’ve certainly had my goofs. Just ask my former friend, Ron Kelly.
I wrote an article last week about the U.S. Junior Girls’ Championship coming to the Country Club of North Carolina in July in which I used some quotes from Kelly, the decorated greens superintendent at CCNC.
Somewhere in the translation from pad to computer, I totally lost my little mind and called him Ron Myers.
Now that’s stupid. Ask Bob Burwell, whom I once identified as Bob Burrell.
I don’t know how stuff like this happens, other than it’s just a severe case of developing brain cramp.
Anyway, I’m sorry, Ron Kelly. I don’t even know a Ron Myers.
The more I see of the transition going on at Pinehurst Resort, the more I appreciate it.
The Bill Coore-Ben Crenshaw renovation — or restoration — of Pinehurst No. 2 is really something. The result of returning the course to its original sand and wiregrass look is striking.
I may be wrong (really?), but I think the professionals will be a little in awe when they come here in 2014 to play in the back-to-back Men’s and Women’s U.S. Open Championships.
I know that the USGA is salivating at the thought of showcasing its championships on the new-look course.
OK, so a guy who goes by Rickie instead of Ricky may be expected to have a few quirks. But really, Rickie Fowler, just how long are you going to keep wearing that silly looking cap?
Come on, fella, that thing looks like it’s big enough cover a couple of heads. Not to mention, the fact that it’s pulled over your ears is really weird.
Seriously, I think Fowler has all the tools to become a huge star on the PGA Tour. He’s a great-looking kid with a great golf swing, and he seems to know no fear.
But I really do hate that cap.
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